Meant To Be
by miss mcGonagle
Summary: An accident brings an old flame back into Minerva's life and her heart, just as a romance with her new boss is beginning to bloom. Rating may go up in future chapters. Chapter 2 is now up.
1. Chapter 1

_Here's the beginning of a story I've been planning to write for some time; I hope that I can update this and my other active fics more quickly than I have in the past. Please leave comments/questions/etc by clicking that lovely little blue button at the bottom of the page. If you'd like to discuss the characters/plot/whatever just send me a message or email by going to my profile. The link to my ADMM forum can be found there as well._

_Enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, blah, blah, blah...you all know the drill._

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_Minerva McGonagall flew through the cool May air, her crimson and gold quidditch robes flapping behind her in the wind. The Gryffindor Seeker had just signaled to her that the snitch was in his sights. As the message was secretly passed to the entire team, Minerva took a moment to glance at the score. Slytherin two hundred and sixty, Gryffindor one hundred and ten. _

_They needed to score once more before taking the snitch or they would be tied with Slytherin. But they needed to do it quickly so that the snitch didn't get away. She looked around at her team; they could do it._

_Minerva heard someone fly up behind her; it was Alastor Moody, her co-captain, looking handsome in his crimson robes._

"_Porskoff Ploy," he whispered to her, his mouth mere centimeters from her ear, sending shivers down her spine, before flying away again._

_Minerva wanted to tell him not to be stupid, that they'd never practiced this move with the team, but he was too far away to hear her without letting others know what he was planning._

_With no time to lose, Minerva began to descend, careful to keep an eye on the players above._

_As she flew below, Alastor gave his trademark yell, the one he gave before rushing the opposing Keeper and scoring a goal for his team. He took possession of the quaffle from a Slytherin Chaser and shot down the length of the quidditch pitch. The entire Slytherin team, save for the Seeker, converged upon Alastor, none of them noticing that twenty feet below Minerva had just caught the quaffle deliberately dropped by Alastor._

_To the cheers of the spectators, Minerva swiftly made her way to the goal posts and scored her team ten points. On cue, the Gryffindor Seeker sped forward and grabbed the snitch from beneath the Slytherin stands._

_The pitch erupted in sound as the Gryffindors won. Minerva laughed happily and yanked the ribbon from her hair, allowing her long black tresses to fall freely and flutter in the wind. She turned on her broom to see Alastor rushing towards her, arms outstretched._

_They embraced as Alastor shouted, "We did it Min! We did it!"_

_Cupping her cheek with his hand he leaned forward to kiss her but she pushed him back._

"_Not in front of the entire school you idiot," she whispered furiously, glancing over at the box of professors._

"_Why not?" he asked, his deep brown eyes dancing with excitement. "Everyone knows we're together, besides, it's our seventh year and I want everyone to know that I'm in love with the best looking quidditch player in the world."_

_The stadium was again filled with cheers and whistling as Minerva gave in and promptly forgot all about the hundreds of people watching._

-

Twelve years later, Minerva was so absorbed in grading the essays before her that she did not hear the knock on her office door.

"_Minerva_."

Startled, Minerva dropped her quill and looked up into the clear blue eyes of her boss and former professor. At the moment those blue eyes were twinkling with amusement and Minerva felt herself blush.

Secretly, Minerva feared this blush sprung from being so close to the headmaster than from the innocent reason of being caught so immersed in work that she didn't hear him until he was right in front of her.

"Minerva," said Albus Dumbledore softly, "breakfast will begin shortly, I wouldn't want you to miss it again."

"No, not again," she said, laughing sheepishly, standing up and abandoning her grading. "I just get so caught up in my work."

"Yes, you always did," he replied, laughing now.

Minerva tensed and lost her smile, reminded that he had been, not so long ago, her professor and that the increasing enjoyment she found in his company was highly inappropriate. He was after all, so much older than her, not to mention her employer.

Minerva did not like to admit it, but she couldn't lie to herself; she had developed a crush on Albus Dumbledore. She tried desperately but without success to stop her heart from rising as he offered her his arm and walked by her side down to the Great Hall.

-

Later that morning, Minerva found herself looking forward to the end of a sixth year Transfiguration lesson. She was trying to teach her students how to transfigure a fork into a raven, but none of the Hufflepuffs could seem to get it right.

"Professor!" the petite sixth year had to shout to make herself heard over the din caused by a room full of Hufflepuffs and semi-transfigured ravens.

"Yes, Miss Muir?" said Minerva, moving closer to better hear her student, deftly dodging the droppings of a bird whose feathers still resembled the tines of a fork.

Lucy Muir blushed shyly as the pretty Transfiguration teacher stood before her, wearing a quizzical look.

"There's an owl at the window, Professor," she said softly. She pointed to the window at her left where a large tawny owl was tapping its beak against the glass, unnoticed by anyone else in the busy classroom.

"Oh, I see! Thank you Miss Muir, and congratulations on your successful transfiguration."

Lucy blushed again as Minerva unlatched the window and accepted the scroll of parchment from the owl who promptly flew away again once its burden was removed.

Minerva frowned; the seal on the parchment bore the crest of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was addressed to Professor Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts School. Above this was a single word, _Urgent!_


	2. Chapter 2

Minerva had no idea how she managed to get through the last few minutes of the lesson; her mind was in a haze, her thoughts buzzing around the mysterious letter. Only when the last student had left the room did she break the seal and read the brief letter. When she had finished reading gave a startled cry and dashed from the classroom.

Her frantic steps took her to the headmaster's office. Albus Dumbledore looked up at her from his desk with a concerned expression in his light blue eyes as she stood before him and made her request.

"Would it be at all possible for another professor to look after my next two classes, Headmaster?" Minerva asked as calmly as she could, but the rising panic in her chest was making if difficult for her to maintain control.

"I'm certain that a substitute could be arranged," Albus told her calmly. "May I ask why?"

Minerva took a deep breath and fought to keep her expression neutral as she spoke.

"I've just received a letter from St. Mungo's," she told the headmaster softly, "Alastor Moody was injured on Auror business. We were together a long time you see and I'm still listed as his next of kin. The healers in charge of his case have asked me to come to the hospital as soon as possible."

Albus stood up abruptly and moved over to his fireplace.

"Just a moment, Minerva," he told her before throwing a pinch of Floo powder into the empty fireplace and kneeling down so that his head disappeared into the green flames of the powder. After a few moments, Albus pulled his head from the flames and rose, gesturing to Minerva to join him at the fireplace.

"We're both going to St. Mungo's," he told her.

Minerva had no time to respond as Albus threw another handful of Floo powder into the fireplace and then stepped into the flames, pulling her with him. When they arrived at the hospital, Minerva swayed on her feet and was grateful for Albus's hold on her arm as he prevented her from falling. She smiled at him in thanks and felt herself melt a little under his gaze, but then she remembered where they were and why and immediately returned to the unpleasant reality.

Minerva tore her eyes away from the man beside her and hurried towards the information desk, cutting in front of the other witches and wizards already in line.

"I'm here to see Alastor Moody, I was told it was urgent," Minerva snapped her words out at the bored looking witch behind the desk. At the name Alastor Moody, the young witch's eyes widened and she leaned forward towards Minerva.

"Are you Minerva McGonagall?" she asked.

Minerva nodded.

"Fourth floor," the witch told her quickly, "Healer Sloan said you were to go up at once; he wants to speak with you about Mr. Moody's condition."

Minerva nodded again and turned towards the stairs when she noticed the hospital guide posted on the wall: Fourth Floor, Spell Damage.

-

Her imagination was going onto overdrive as she hurried up the steps; only Albus's gentle hand on her arm kept her from losing control. Alastor was in training to become an auror, anything could have happened, he could be dying at that very moment. She moved faster.

She found the healer at once; he was waiting for her, a worried frown upon his face.

"Minerva McGonagall?" he asked. She nodded and waited for the worst. Instead of delivering any news he glanced at Albus and then back at Minerva with a question in his eyes.

Minerva blushed and gestured to the man at her side.

"This is my boss, Albus Dumbledore," she explained, knowing how it must look to the doctor, Albus had yet to remove his hand from her arm. "He offered to escort me here after I received your letter. How is Alastor?"

The healer nodded at her explanation and then sighed.

"Not well," he told her. "Physically he'll recover, but one of the spells has affected his memory and we don't yet know if the damage is permanent. We're hoping you can help us with this."

Minerva nodded to show that she understood, but inside she shuddered; how much of his memory was gone and how would that affect his career as an auror?

"Will you come with me?" the doctor asked, gesturing towards a room to his left. Minerva swallowed and nodded, nervous and wary.

Albus gave her arm a gentle squeeze and smiled reassuringly at her as she moved away. Minerva paused and looked back at him; it was all she could do not to beg him to come with her. But after a moment of hesitation she turned away and followed the doctor.

Alastor Moody was laying on the hospital bed, his muscular form making it look small, almost childlike. His head, chest and left hand were wrapped in bandages; Minerva gave an involuntary jerk as she noticed a small patch of blood soaking though the bandages on his chest.

The healer moved to the injured man's side and tapped him gently on the shoulder.

"Mr. Moody?"

Alastor stirred and opened his eyes. His eyes roved around the room until he noticed Minerva.

"Min," he stated quietly, giving her a weak smile. "I feel like hell."

Minerva tried to smile and moved closer to him, taking his uninjured hand in both of hers.

"You look it," she told him, trying to joke.

He gave a small chuckle that clearly hurt his damaged ribs.

"It looks like I won't be able to make it tomorrow night," he told her. Minerva blinked at him, confused.

"Make it where?" she asked him.

"To that big ministry dinner," he explained. "I know you wanted to go, seeing as the departmnet is being honored, but –"

Minerva stared at him and dropped his hand back onto the bed.

"But Alastor," she said softly, "that dinner was –"

Healer Sloan cleared his throat and threw Minerva a warning glance. She looked back down at Alastor.

"Unimportant," she finished. "I'm going to let you rest now and I'll check up on you later."

He nodded as she bent down and placed a kiss on his forehead before turning and following the healer out of the room. Once outside, Healer Sloan turned to her.

"Well?" he asked. "What were you about to say in there? How far back is he mentally?"

Minerva cleared her throat and looked down at the floor, trying to hide the tears that had sprung up in her eyes.

"That ministry dinner was held five years ago."


End file.
